


Love at High Tide

by bugseid



Category: Monster Girl Encyclopedia, Original Work, モンスター娘のいる日常 | Monster Musume no Iru Nichijou
Genre: Contemporary Fantasy, Developing Relationship, F/M, Falling In Love, Forbidden Love, Monster - Freeform, Monster Girl, Romance, Scylla - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:48:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26923867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bugseid/pseuds/bugseid
Summary: Peter is a librarian who lives a quiet and successful life in a small port-town. But all that threatens to change once he comes face first and falls in love with a Scylla - a beautiful woman with the lower body of an octopus! Is Peter willing to risk all he's worked for to follow his heart, or is this forbidden love doomed to fail?
Relationships: human x scylla
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

“Sort of ironic, isn’t it? Out of all of us, you’re the one that’s going tonight.”

“I’m not sure you fully know what irony is, Karen.” Peter glared at his coworker over the stack of books that still needed to be checked in. She always let them pile up. “This is community outreach. It’s my job to go and represent -“

“Represent the Tideview Public Library yada yada yes I’m aware. But I just think it’s _funny_ how the person who is afraid of water is the one that’s going. You are aware that the festival is taking place on the boardwalk. Right? Like you _do_ know what a boardwalk is? Lots of water… right by the sea…”

Peter let out a heavy sigh. He wasn’t afraid of water; he was afraid of drowning. When he first moved to Tideview seven years ago it was brought up in his ‘fun facts about me’ introduction. He still wondered why the list he filled out even included a section about fears, and why he bothered to fill it out. Since then a lot of his coworkers quickly turned that into ‘ha ha, the guy that’s afraid of water moved to port-town’.

Seven years. He’s been hearing the same jokes about it for seven years. The work day was almost over and Peter didn’t want to continue bickering with Karen. He tossed another stack of books onto her desk with a heavy thud before responding “Well, it’s not like any of the work would get done if you went.”

“Oh you know I’m just teasing you!” Karen said, letting out a half-hearted laugh while pushing the newly placed books to an ignored corner of her desk. “I’m sure you’ll be fine showing the library in a positive light and all that community outreach representation stuff that you’re always doing.”

Peter was always performing community outreach events for the library. It’s part of the reason why he loved being a librarian, being able to interact with the community. But this upcoming event was on a much larger scale, at least in importance, than what Peter usually does. Normally the department heads and library director were the ones to do all the planning for the library’s involvement at the annual midsummer festival. The festival always took place at the boardwalk, an area of Tideview that’s been built up over the years with numerous shops and plenty of piers that stretches into the sea. It was important to the residents of Tideview, and this year was especially exciting for the library. That’s because this year the library’s director was going to announce their retirement…

… and Peter was going to be promoted to replace them. It’s been difficult for Peter to hide his excitement about this – only a select few people even knew about the director’s plans to retire. That’s why, for this year’s midsummer festival, Peter was the one to handle all the planning for the library’s involvement. It’s also why Peter was about to leave work early. The festival was only two weeks away, and Peter had to head over to the boardwalk for some more planning and meetings.

“Alright I’m gone for the day. Make sure you print out more newsletters.” Peter didn’t wait for Karen to respond. He got up, took his coat off of the back of his chair and headed out. He wanted to make sure he got a chance to get some dinner before going to the boardwalk this evening. Otherwise he wouldn’t be able to eat until he got home, which he suspected was going to be rather late.

###

The sun was already starting to set by the time Peter had finished his work at the boardwalk, talking with members of village hall and catching up with other community workers. Being so close to the water still made him uneasy, but he couldn’t deny the serenity he found looking out across the horizon; seeing the sun’s rays tint the night sky beautiful shades of red as it snuck under the water’s waves. Of course, he’d much rather enjoy such a beautiful sight a good distance away from the water’s edge. No matter how many times he’s been told the boardwalk was perfectly stable, he still didn’t like the sound of his feet echoing off of the wooden boards with the water underneath.

But he has made progress. When he first moved to Tideview he couldn’t even stand staring at the shoreline. Now, after seven years, he’s able to at least walk around the boardwalk and even follow the shoreline (with some distance between him and the actual water, of course) a bit farther down on the beach. Provided it was low tide, of course. He started to grow fond of those little walks, and tonight was as good as any night to enjoy a nice stroll and soak in the ambience.

But there was… something. Earlier in the evening while Peter was having yet another meeting with members of village hall, he spotted an odd silhouette off in the distance, just on the edge of the water. It was hard to make out the exact shapes due to the low light and distance. It was… almost human. Roughly. At least a part of it seemed human enough.

It didn’t look like it moved much, and it wasn’t always in the same spot. But it kept moving farther and farther away, closer to the cliffs. Sometimes he’d would look and it’d be there, then a moment later it was gone. But always right on the edge of the water, down by beach and moving closer to where the shoreline rose into a rocky cliff. At this time of day, the beach is closed for safety reasons but that doesn’t always stop people from lingering around. But to be so far out?

It wasn’t Peter’s job but he couldn’t help but feel the need to go check it out. The sun was barely in the sky by this point, providing just enough light to make out his surroundings. Peter continued walking along the gravel shore towards where he last saw that silhouette, his muscles slowly tightening up with fear. He hadn’t been this close to the shore line before. Occasionally the waves would creep up the beach, soaking his shoes and stabbing his spine with fear.

He wanted to go home. Peter seven years ago would have gone home by now. Hell, Peter three months ago would have gone home. But he saw something, and he didn’t want to wake up in the morning only to watch the news and hear about a missing person who was last seen on the beach. If someone did need help, even if it was just a drunkard that got lost, he wanted to make sure they could get back home safely. Or at least get them farther away from the water’s edge. He knew how dangerous the high tide could get in this part, how easily it could sweep someone away that passed out on the beach. It’s happened before in the past. It’s rare, but it’s a possibility.

He kept walking. The beach seemed much larger than before. Was the boardwalk always this far away from the cliffs? No, it’s probably just because it’s late and Peter’s had a long day. The shore line continued to curve as larger and larger rocks jut from up from the ground. He was closer to the cliffs now. The sun had all but vanished beneath the waves, only the faintest rays of light reaching up that hinted at its presence. Peter pulled out his smartphone and turned on the flashlight. It always drained his battery faster than a sponge soaking up water, but he needed the light.

His slow, inconsistent march across the wet gravel finally stopped. The sun’s light had departed for the day and the moon’s soft glow did little to help his eyes see. He panned his phone’s flashlight around, casting harsh shadows against the rocky shore.

There was a splash.

Peter spun around, trying to find the sound’s source. “H-hello? Is someone there, is ev-everything ok?” He took a few careful steps, trying to find stable footing on the uneven ground. The water was already starting to creep up his ankles. He hadn’t realized he’d stepped so far into the water. “D-do you need help?”

It hadn’t occurred to him until now that perhaps _he’d_ be the one to need help. The sound of his heart’s beating was starting to drown out the waves. His chest was getting tight. He tried to control his breathing, counting his breaths, just like he learned from the numerous books he read on handling stress and anxiety.

The light from his phone that he’d been clutching with white knuckles gave out.

He froze. He didn’t want to risk moving in these shallow depths without his eyes properly adjusting to the dim light first. But whatever techniques he had learned, or hoped to learn, about not panicking vanished. Just one step at a time, right? Peter preferred to do things in order, with clear guidelines and goals. Right now, the goal was obvious. Peter groped around in the darkness, trying to find some orientation with the larger rocks that were beside him. Just find one, use it for stability, and turn around. That’s all he had to do. That idea repeated in his head.

There are enough lights from the town to get his direction – it’s keeping an eye on where he’s stepping in these shallow depths that’s tricky. He slowly pivoted his feat, pushing aside small rocks hidden under the water. All he had to do was turn around and slowly drag his feet across the ground.

He turned, and stopped. Just a few feet away from him was something, no, _someone_. The figure was facing towards Peter. Soft shadows created by the moon’s dim light outlined the curvature of the figure’s shape. It was unmistakably a woman, with a head of soaked, wavy hair that went down to her shoulders.

Peter tried to find words. He felt the sounds trapped in his throat to say something, anything. Maybe it was supposed to be a yelp of fear or a cry for help. But… this was just a girl? He tried to ask what she was doing out here, who she was, anything. She showed no signs of distress. But the words stayed trapped in his throat, drowned out by his own panic-laden breaths.

She continued to stand there, staring at him as the water lapped against her hips. She seemed… hesitant? Scared? No. Peter’s seen that body language enough times to know what it was, even with poor visibility. She was studying him. Her eyes slowly trailed across him as if she was hunched over a book seeking answers to an important question.

Their met eyes for a brief moment, and Peter could swear he saw the sea’s radiance buried within her iris.

Something curled up from the water around her. The movement brought Peter back to reality as his eyes darted to see what it was. With a flash of movement, she dived back into the water. The only sign of her existence being a few bubbles in place of where she once was. Peter stood there trying to process what happened. He wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t just hallucinated the entire exchange. Maybe he wished he did.

For in that moment when she dived back beneath the waves, Peter could see her full silhouette outlined against the moon’s light. Her top half was that of a human, yes, but her torso led down to the curves of her hips which sat upon the unmistakable shape of sucker-covered tentacles.

Many doubted the existence of such beings. Monsters were never supposed to be real, despite time and time again everyone being reminded they are. Peter, personally, had never encountered such ‘demi-humans’ before. These… things with frightening features that’d snatch up people for their own nefarious deeds.

But despite all the reports he’s read and all the news segments he watched; he was never told that one of these monsters would be so beautiful.


	2. Chapter 2

What happened last night seemed real enough to Peter. It was hazy, almost like he was recalling a dream – but a dream doesn’t leave your pants soaked in sea water. Perhaps it was a little to late to blame it on exhaustion or a trick of the light, but the image of her was remained clear in his mind. A beautiful woman, whose shapely hips blended into tentacles rather than legs. Monsters weren’t real, were they? Every area had their own folktales of different types of monsters that’d run around and snatch people. They were an easy excuse to explain someone’s disappearance.

Still, Peter couldn’t stop thinking about her. As he was preparing breakfast and getting ready for work, he kept wondering about her. Was she actually real? What was she? Has the stress from taking on these additional work responsibilities started to take their toll on his mental health? She certainly didn’t seem that dangerous, although Peter admitted visual appearance is a poor determination of someone’s (or something’s) threat capabilities. But if she was as dangerous as monsters are, why didn’t she attack?

Once at work Peter quickly went to his desk and started up the Library’s workflows. With it he could search through the libraries database for anything item they might have – and far better than the digital card catalog that their patrons used. Granted, the program did much more than just provide a list for all the items they had in their collections: but that feature was the most commonly used one. First, he started with looking for anything that was locally published – like newspapers or an old folktale written by a local author. Then he started to search for anything about monsters in general. There were plenty of hits, of course. But only one of item looked like it’d be any use. Luckily it was still listed as being in the library – only it wasn’t available for the public to check out. It was in storage.

Peter grabbed his keys and headed towards the basement. Overtime room has to be made for new items to get added to their collections. Rather then throw everything out, some items would get checked out to storage to r prevent them from circulating and stored away. Most items thrown into storage rarely ever leave, aside from the occasional booksale where patrons are allowed to go down and fill up a bag full of old, outdated books at an excellent price. Storage was little more than a large room with cluttered shelves and a couple of dusty tables.

It didn’t take long for Peter to find the book in question. A complete encyclopedia that detailed a variety of monsters to make it easy to identify them. He started flipping through the book, trying to find out which tentacle monsters that lived near bodies of water existed.

“Ah, so this is where you’ve been hiding.”

The voice startled Peter, but was quickly identifiable. Peter turned to face Dan, the library director, as they continued.

“Karen’s been looking for you – said she has a patron that wants to do a claims returned.”

“Ah, right. I’ll be right up.”

“What are you doing down here anyways?” Dan walked towards where Peter was standing. His eyes glanced over the book in Peter’s hands. He cocked an eyebrow before continuing, “Monsters? You think they’re real?”

Peter bit the inside of his cheek. Looking over a book is innocent enough right? Yet he felt like he got caught doing something he shouldn’t have. “Well, it’s just a bunch of stories, isn’t it?”

Dan shook his head. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Far too many first-hand accounts.”

“Speaking from experience?” Peter asked, carefully thumbing through the pages.

“Disgusting creatures. Honestly, it’s better for everyone’s safety if most people pretend that they’re just a bunch of fables. Those hideous… _things_ … they skulk around on the edges of society. These monsters, they’re not like us, you know? Have you _seen_ the pictures that depict them? Humans with taloned feet and feather wings, some with hooves and horns.”

Peter was stunned. This was a side of the director that he never knew existed. This man whom helped him integrate into their small town and become prepared to replace him, this person who regularly spoke about the importance of making their patrons feel welcome. Yet Dan spoke with such vitriol as if it were second nature. “Ok, so they look terrifying. But have they, like, done anything?”

Dan’s eyes narrowed at Peter’s remark. “Why should we let them have the chance? Besides, there’s a few counts of someone meeting a monster and then never returning. Can’t be anything good. Monster don’t belong in our world – and anyone that thinks otherwise is free to join them in whatever depraved hole they crawled from.”

“I see.” Peter didn’t know how else to respond. There air itself seemed to weigh on him, made heavy by Dan’s remarks.

“Eugh, I feel disgusted just thinking about all this. Do me a favor and toss that book out when you go up. No reason for us to carry something like that.” Dan shook his head and left Peter to his thoughts.

Peter’s eyes glanced down at the book. He was still trying to process Dan’s remarks. On the page, written in an outdated calligraphy, were the word ‘Scylla’ _._ It included a hand-drawn depiction of that monster, as well as some information about them. Amphibious monsters that lived in the water. They had the upper body of a human and lower body that resembling the tentacles of an octopus. Scylla were listed as an extremely dangerous monsters that preferred to stalk costal towns, snatching people into the water and constricting them with their tentacles until they drowned.

Even as Peter went back upstairs and continued his work day, one thought lingered in his mind. _But if they’re so dangerous, why didn’t she attack me?_

###

That evening Peter returned to the beach, stopping by the store along the way to pick up a few items. He was prepared this time. One flashlight with a good battery, and a bag with fish (both smoked and raw) and some candy. If Scylla were real, then they have to eat right? To Peter’s knowledge, Tideview doesn’t have a history of people going missing near the water. A few accidents yes, but not nearly enough to conclude that someone is snatching them up to eat them. But what would a Scylla eat anyways?

Can they eat raw fish? They live in the water so they must be eating fish, right? Or do they cook it? Again, if the Scylla had some sort of house or was setting up a fire people would have noticed by now… right? As for the candy, well, Peter himself wasn’t really sure. As he walked along the beach he kept trying to think of a good excuse to tell someone if anyone came up and asked him why he was at the beach after dark with a bag of fish and candy. Peter always made an effort to fit in with Tideview, to be just like one of the locals. To be welcomed and normal.

Right now, Peter was anything but that.

His thoughts kept racing as he paced up and down the shoreline. Should he go back to where he was last night? Right now, he was keeping a good distance between him and the waters edge. Just to be safe. He wasn’t _afraid_ of water, just afraid of drowning.

“But what would I even say? Assuming she even understands our language.” Peter spoke to no one; his mumbled words quickly being drowned out by the sound of the waves. “Hi, I brought you fish? Here’s some candy? Why did I even come out here again?”

Peter sat down on a flat, sturdy rock that jutted out of the sand. He decided that he’d just sit here for a bit. Maybe an hour. Just to see if she showed up again. If not then he’d go home and assume last night was just as hallucination. He set an alarm on his phone and took out one of the candy bars. No reason for them to go to waste. Might as well keep the flashlight off too. At least for now. Keep the battery charged so when he has to go back to his car, he’ll have the light.

An hour passed.

Peter turned off his phone’s blaring alarm and tucked the candy bar wrappers into his pocket. All alone for one hour by himself, at night, by the sea. Surely if there was some man-snatching monster he would have been assaulted by now. Peter rummaged around for his flashlight and flicked it on.

The flash light shined on a nearby spot in the water, casting a bright light on the figure that stood just a few feet away.

Peter felt his heart sink. Sure enough, the figure matched the depiction in the book exactly. Not only that, but it was unmistakably the same figure he had seen last night. She didn’t… _seem_ that monstrous. There was an ethereal beauty to her. She was wearing just a few pieces of water-soaked cloth that clung to her skin. Soft skin seamlessly blended into smooth tentacles that made up her lower half, and her eyes held the same reflection you’d see on the water’s surface. Peter’s eyes kept following her form, trying to take in as much as he could, until he noticed a darkened patch on one of her tentacles.

“Wait… you’re injured?”

There was a deep gash on one of her tentacles, right where the thigh would be if she was a human. Peter wasn’t a doctor; he wasn’t even close. But even he knew when something looked inflamed.

“Do… do you need help?” 

The Scylla’s tentacles writhed a bit, dipping in and out of the waters surface. She slowly inched closer towards Peter. Peter’s grip on his flashlight tightened in response. He couldn’t tell exactly how much reach she had with her tentacles – was she just trying to close the distance so she could pull him in? Peter’s mind started to race as he remembered what he read in the books passage, and Dan’s words.

Then his eyes landed on her injury again.

Peter took a deep breath. He knew he wouldn’t be able to fight back. It’s far too late to scream for help; no one would hear him. He also doubted his ability to put any distance between him and her to run. Even if he was about to die, right now, he saw someone that might need help.

“I don’t know how much help I can be, but I can at least try to look at your injury. Or you can tell me how I can help. Like… maybe I can go grab some medicine or something?”

“How do I know you won’t try to attack me, or poison me?” Her voice had a soothing coldness to it. She folded her arms across her chest and continued, “How do I know I can trust you?”

 _Trust me? But aren’t you the monster?_ Peter didn’t know how to respond. Then he remembered the bag he brought with him, and lifted it up a bit. “Uh… I brought fish?”


	3. Chapter 3

The first hints of rain were starting to show. Right now, it was only a few drops; inconsistently breaking the silence as they plop into the water’s surface. The Scylla standing in front of Peter didn’t seem to care, but Peter could feel his heart start to race. Had he forgotten to check the weather? He was still fairly close to the shore so if a storm did roll in, he could probably make it back to his car. Being at the sea with a storm coming in was bad news.

“You shouldn’t be here.” The Scylla spoke plainly, her eyes wearily trained on Peter. “Take your poisoned fish with you when you leave – do you think I’m so stupid that I’d willingly take something from a human?”

“I didn’t come here to poison you; I came here because…” Peter trailed off. He wasn’t entirely sure why he decided to come here again. He could have just as easily chosen to ignore that he saw her last night and go about his life.

“What, missed your chance to attack me last night, so you thought to try again tonight?”

The rain was starting to pick up, and the tide was creeping further up the beach. Peter quickly pat himself down and displayed his open hands before responding. “I didn’t bring any weapons! But what are you doing here? I get up, turn around, and you’re right there.”

“You weren’t supposed to see me.”

“If you get this close of course I’m going to see you. It’s your injury, isn’t it? That’s why you’ve gotten so close to the shore, close enough to be seen.”

The Scylla opened her mouth to speak, but the crack of thunder drowned her out.

Peter tested his luck and stepped forward, being careful on the wet rocks. By now the tide was over his ankles. “Tell me what you need and I can try to help.”

“I – no. You’re a human. You’re just trying to make me let my guard down.”

Peter sighed. Maybe she did need help with her injury, maybe she didn’t. But there was no reason to keep pressing the issue. You can’t force someone to accept help they don’t want. He let out a defeated “Ok, I’ll leave and forget I saw you.”

The beaches near Tideview are mostly gravel. As you get closer to the cliffs, around where Peter was currently at, larger stone slabs start to make up the ground until it eventually blends into the cliff. This is an important fact, because those sections of the beach get especially dangerous during a storm. That is because stone can become very slippery when wet. The slippery surfaces of these stones, which have been smoothed over from years of erosion, combined with the uneven ground can be very dangerous for someone that is not careful.

Unfortunately for him, Peter was not being careful. As Peter started to leave, barely even getting back to the beach proper, he lost his footing and slipped; falling right onto the stony ground. With a thud, his head slammed onto one of the rocks, and his last view before losing consciousness was receiving a mouthful of sea water as the waves washed over him.

###

Peter awoke to drips of water hitting his face. As his blurry vision cleared, he found himself staring at the ceiling of a cave. He was laying on a cold stone slab that had a thin blanket draped on top of it that provided little cushioning. He groaned and sat up. As soon as he sat up, he felt a sharp pain shoot through his head.

The air in the cave was humid and cold. Most of the walls were unworked stone, but the floor was made up of smooth stone tiles. White stone columns rose up to support the cave’s ceiling, and a combination of brick and wood made walls that acted as room dividers. Peter wasn’t exactly sure of how large the cave was, or if there were any additional sections – right now he was in a small alcove.

Next to the stone slab he was laying on was a small wooden stool with a filled cup and a lit lantern resting on top. Next to that was a soaked bag of fish. Peter grabbed the cup. It was warm and filled with a brownish red liquid. He swirled the liquid around, taking in its soft aroma. “Looks like tea… smells like tea…”

“It’s tea.”

Peter almost dropped the cup. The Scylla was standing in the doorway, or rather what would best count as a doorway. She continued, “Don’t worry, it’s not poisoned. Unlike you humans, I wouldn’t try to poison someone.”

“I wasn’t trying to poison you.” Peter responded. He took a sip of tea. It was an extremely basic tea, with a taste that was barely above luke-warm leaf water. “Thank you.”

“Once the storm passes you can leave. But…” The Scylla wringed her hands together. “You can’t tell _anyone_ that you were here.”

“I won’t, but why?”

“I’m not going to let you bring people here to hunt – “

“No, I mean why did you bring me here. If you are so weary of me, why did you bring me here? Which… what is this place? Where am I?”

“You slipped and fell. You’re not far – this is just a well-hidden cave.”

“That doesn’t answer why.”

The Scylla ignored Peter’s remark and went into the next room. After slowly getting up, and intentionally leaving behind the tea, Peter followed her. The way she moved was enticing. Peter found it hard not to stare. Her tentacles looked like they all moved independently, all eight of them flexing and twisting with inhuman flexibility as she moved throughout the cave; hips rocking like a ship at sea. Peter felt a bit guilty for staring so much.

“Do you have a name?”

The Scylla sat down by a window that was carved out of the wall. Outside, the storm raged on. “Does it matter?”

“I’d like to thank you properly for helping me.”

“It’s Nami.”

Peter shuffled over to the window, sitting opposite of Nami. He held out a hand, saying “I’m Peter, thanks for saving me Nami.”

“You are a fool for going to the sea at night when a storm was coming.”

Peter agreed with Nami. It was an incredibly stupid thing to do. If she hadn’t been there… well, Peter didn’t want to keep thinking about that. But then again, she could have just pulled him more inland instead of dragging him back here.

Nami didn’t look at Peter, she kept her gaze on the storm outside. “You never answered why you came back to the beach.”

“Same reason as you, maybe.”

Her eyes quickly darted towards Peter. They were amethyst in color, with a slit-shaped iris like an Octopus. She was incredibly beautiful, even with the poor lighting inside the cave. Peter quickly retraced his mental steps and continued, “Last night I thought I saw someone at the beach while I was on the boardwalk. I thought maybe someone needed help, so I went to investigate.”

“That’s a terrible reason.”

“Since I’m here, I can look at that injury of yours.”

“I’ll be fine without you poking at it.”

“I might have been stupid enough to go to the beach with a storm coming in, but even I know it’s not good to let a wound fester. You’re clearly bothered by it. I don’t know how much I can help but I can at least take a look at it for you. Afterall you brought me here after I fell – what kind of person would I be if I didn’t repay that favor?”

Nami sighed. “Fine.”

The tentacle in question rose up and propped itself onto Peter’s lap. He carefully placed his palms onto it near the injury. It was unlike anything he has felt before. The skin was smooth and slick, covered in some sort of thin film. Even with its softness he could feel the strength that laid in it. It was hard to get a grip, his hands kept sliding across its surface, prompting a short noise from Nami. “C-careful! It’s sensitive.”

“I’m sorry.”

The end of the tentacle wrapped around Peter’s leg with a light squeeze. The injury itself was located closer towards the top of her tentacle, where it blended in with her hips. It was a gash about two inches in length where the skin had been sliced apart, showing the underlying skin layers. It didn’t look very fresh – there wasn’t any blood spilling out, and the signs of natural recovery was already there. Truthfully, Peter didn’t know how severe it was. To him, it looked bad. But Nami wasn’t a human – she was a Scylla. Monsters with traits similar to an Octopus. Was it possible for them to regrow lost tentacles, just like an Octopus? Maybe they had a similar fast recovery time, able to quickly heal from injuries?

Peter continued to ponder on Scylla physiology as he investigated, carefully running his finger along the length of the gash. He applied a light amount of pressure, which caused Nami to let out a whimper. “That hurts! I said be careful!”

He did it again and felt something hard underneath the flesh. The tentacle wrapped around his leg squeezed tightly in protest. In the gash, along the side, was a small lump where the skin was already growing over. When Peter squeezed a small sliver of metal pressed against the spot. “It looks like you have a metal shard stuck in you, and your skin’s already growing over it. Do you have something sharp? I can try to get it out.”

A tentacle handed Peter a knife. “Ok… I’ll try to be careful.”

“Don’t try just be – nngh!”

Peter cut the bit of skin that was healed over the metal shard. With another squeeze the shard started to make its way out. With enough of it out Peter grabbed the end of it and slowly pulled. A four-inch-long sliver of metal coated in Nami’s blue blood. He placed it on the window still. “There, got it. Now you should be able to heal properly.”

Peter tried to get up, but Nami’s tentacles were still wrapped around him. He fell a short distance and landed on the ground, with Nami falling on top of him. He didn’t realize just how tightly she had wrapped his tentacles around him. Her body was pressed against his, her face mere inches away from his.

He felt his heart skip a beat as her hot breath caressed his skin. Their eyes were locked together. “Sorry,” Peter stammered. “I didn’t realize we were tangled.”

Nami leaned in closer, maintaining eye contact. Her arm was wrapped around Peter, hand resting on the back of his head. Peter found himself reaching up and cupping her face with his hand. The space between them grew shorter. After what felt like an eternity, their lips touched in a careful kiss.

The two of them stayed in each other’s embrace throughout the night, waiting out the storm the raged outside.


End file.
